


Run

by amberlyth



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-20
Updated: 2011-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberlyth/pseuds/amberlyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not what she wanted when she dreamed of the perfect fairy-tale life. Perfection does not exist and this fairy tale does not have a happy ending. What do you do when your life is no longer your own?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

"Darling, you look wonderful. The procession starts in five minutes. We'll knock on the door when it's time."

Not a hair out of place with the assistance of several containers of hair products. Multiple layers of makeup professionally applied to look fresh and barefaced. A dress that has been fitted to precise measurements. Not too low-cut, but not overly modest either.

Bridesmaids and groomsmen in perfectly color-coordinated outfits designed to complement the setting, but not detract from the so-called "stars" of the show. Flower girl and ring bearer are impossibly adorable, miniatures of the rest of the party. Church meticulously decorated, no detail overlooked. Nothing clashes, not even the outfits of the guests, as there was a color code in the invitations. Flowers are everywhere. The mixture of scents is intoxicating and pleasant, almost but not quite overwhelming.

Nearly everyone I know is waiting for me, dressed in their absolute best. Smiles ready to be attached, anticipating my arrival.

Everything is just so. Everything is just right. But absolutely nothing feels right. This has been planned for over a year, and a foregone conclusion for several more. At some point this was what I wanted, wasn't it? I can't remember. This day has been the focus for so long. I am the bride, not a person. I want to be a person again. I need to be a person again.

A knock on the door. "Mary Anne, sweetie, it's time."

The window is unlocked, but rusty from disuse. Force it open. No time to worry about noise or dust. Shoes! Not the high-heeled stylish monstrosities meant to transform me from short and mousy to a tall Grecian goddess. Instead I pair old comfortable sneakers with the designer gown.

Another knock, more insistent now. Luckily the door is locked. A rare moment of privacy for the actress before her big performance. Get the purse and get out. Leave this behind. Perfect day. Perfect wedding. Perfect groom with a voice that was traces of Southern soft-spoken gentleman except when it wasn't.

Out the window now. Doorknob jiggling in the background. No time for a note. No desire to explain.

Voices calling my name in the distance. Do not turn. Do not stop. Do not acknowledge.

Run. Just run.

**Author's Note:**

> More chapters to follow soon now that I've finally re-found my outline...


End file.
